


A Tale of a Sidekick and a Henchman

by Lil_Otaku_Nerd



Category: Original Work
Genre: Friendship, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-09 15:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13484733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Otaku_Nerd/pseuds/Lil_Otaku_Nerd
Summary: Thomas Dreae, the sidekick to superhero Fourteen, meets the henchman of Zakel, Corden Jones. Both exhausted with their employer's dramatics as well as getting injured themselves, they run away. Together, the two decided to live a normal life and as they do, they begin to fall in love.





	1. Chapter One: The Sidekick and the Henchman

**Author's Note:**

> Taken from a prompt I found on Pinterest. 
> 
> "A superhero's sidekick and supervillian's henchman meet and fall ijn love at the hospital after their bosses grieviously injure each other. Mutually exhausted with their employer's dramatics, they run away to live a totally normal life."

**Chapter One: The Sidekick and the Henchman**

"We all have good and bad inside of us. It's what side we choose to follow that defines who we really are." - J.K. Rowling

_**St. Martin's Hospital, Waiting Room** _

_**August 1, 12:56:09 pm** _

Thomas sat in a chair, bouncing his leg up and down as he waited for the doctor to come out. It had been an hour since he had brought his mentor, Fourteen, in with enormous wounds. None of the nurses would tell him how his mentor was or when the doctor would return. All he knew was that "he's doing what his job entails him to do".

Which obviously meant making him worried.

He glanced at the clock again, then glanced back at the doors to the ER. The light above it was still red, indicating that they were still working on his mentor. He sighed and leaned back in the chair, trying to calm his nerves.

Sometimes he wondered why he even signed up for this job. To be the sidekick of the superhero Fourteen, one of the Twenty heroes known of. To be the one to patch him up after the dramatics he would do with Zakel. He was told to wear a costume as well, the most ridiculous one he had even worn (it made him so embarrassed). He'd be the one to listen to Fourteen's, or rather Andrew's, rants about Zakel and his evil deeds and what he could be plotting.

When he had first signed up, he had only been just fresh out of the Academy and on his way to look for a job. He never meant to come across one of Fourteen's posters that went:

_DO YOU WANT TO BE A HERO?_

_DO YOU WANT TO HELP PROTECT THE CITY?_

_THEN JOIN UP WITH FOURTEEN!_

It had went on to talk more about the duties of heroes, how to sign up, where to sign up, and when.

He had showed his mom and she had told him, "Do what your gut tells you, honey."

His gut had practically  ** _screamed_** no.

His heart, on the other hand, was squealing  _ **yes**_.

And the very next day, he signed up.

It was painstakingly slow at first. Thomas had been given coffee runs, papers to sign, and the job to clean the floor. Fourteen was rarely seen ever standing when Thomas had shown up at his flat for work, and when he was, it was only when Zakel showed his little skinny ass again. Fourteen, when Thomas had asked him when he would begin hero work with him, had replied, "Hero work? That's not going to happen for a while, not until I deem you ready."

When would he deem Thomas ready?

Fourteen deemed him ready for hero work when he was twenty-one, three years into his job.

By then, Thomas had really just wanted to up and quit and go home. He had wanted to maybe just go get a degree for creative writing and become an author. Or become a director.

Or  _something._

But when Fourteen deemed him ready, he couldn't very well leave even if he wanted to. So he stayed and became the sidekick Flight. 

Being Flight was the only thing he loved about the job. When he was Flight, he was more snarky, more confident, more aware. When he was Flight, he felt like he was a new person, like he had been reborn. He was a new person, with a new name and a new personality.

The other thing he loved about his job was his little snarky conversations with Reaper, Zakel's henchman. The man knew how to snark and knew how to be a constant in Thomas's life as Flight.

The thing Thomas hated? 

Fourteen's and Zakel's needs to be  _dramatic._

They fought like kids, the two did. They were like two boys fighting over a Captain America toy or over who got to sit where at the dinner table or who got the first game controller first. They took the fighting, though, way beyond Thomas had ever seen. It was like the two thought they were meant to fight each other for eternity when they could just always call a truce whenever they wanted to.

The door to the ER opened, knocking Thomas out of his thoughts and making him scramble to stand up. The light above the door was now green.

"Is he okay?" Thomas asked.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, he's much better now than he was when you first brought him in. By a fight with Zakel, you said?"

Thomas nodded.

"Dear God, you better be glad he isn't dead then. He had more than half his ribs broken, a broken arm, several second degree burns, several lacerations, and blunt trauma to the back of his head. Hell be fine in a couple of weeks, but I suggest he doesn't work until two months from now."

Thomas sighed, his body untenaing slowly with relief. "Thank you so much, Doctor Shakespeare."

"It was no problem. But please, keep Mr. Withers nowhere near Zakel."

"That I will try to do, Doctor."

The doctor smiled, gave him a pat on the shoulder, then began to walk past. Then he turned around and added, "He'll be staying up on floor six, usual room as always."

"Right."

Then he turned around again and continued down the hall, around the corner out of Thomas's sight.

Thomas slid down against the wall, relief flooding his system.  _He'll be okay with time,_ he thought.  _I just have to make sure he doesn't hear anything about Zakel._

* * *

_**St. Martin's Cafeteria** _

_**August 1, 1:15:35 pm** _

Thomas sat at a table with a tray of two grilled cheese sandwiches in front of him, a salad, and a thing of green tea. He chewed on one corner of a sandwich, looking through his Instagram. He was looking through the messages he had received and from who, replying to some as he finished off the first sandwich.

"Mind if I sit here?"

He looked up to see a man about the same age as him, twenty-six or twenty-seven, with dark black hair stuck under a baseball cap. Dark onyx eyes reminded him of Reaper's ( _don't think of how pretty Reaper's eyes are, you stupid)_ and a dopey grin was spread across his face. He was wearing a plain Flash T-shirt with a pair of navy blue jeans and a pair of tennis shoes. On his shirt was a visitor sticker with the name  _CORDEN JONES_ typed on it.

"I don't mind, sit if you want," Thomas replied.

The man grinned his dopey grin. "Thanks."

Thomas waved his hand at him. "It's nothing. I've just been sitting here since one, though I'll need to to visit my boss soon."

"Boss?" the man asked. "What happened?"

"A mugging gone wrong," he lied. "He's fine though, he'll live."

The man nodded. "Funny thing is, I'm here to see my boss too. Guess it was a brawl or something and he got caught in it."

"He okay though?"

"Yeah, he's just peachy." The man grinned again. "But wait 'til I tell him he can't work for a couple of months."

Thomas laughed. "That's how it'll be with my boss!" Then he blinked and added, "Oh, I never introduced myself. I'm Thomas Dreae."

"Corden Jones, at your service."

As the two continued to talk, they never knew they were talking to the enemy of their mentors.


	2. The Second Meeting

**Chapter Two: The Second Meeting**

"There are heroes in evil as well as in good." - Francois de La Rochefoucauld

  _ **One Month Later**_

The second time Thomas had met Corden was when he was on an errand for Fourteen, Andrew was his real name, to the comic book store. He had been flicking through the box of Captain America comics ("Get me some Deadpool too, will ya?!") that sat beside the box of Deadpool comics. Fourteen never really specified which comics he wanted but Thomas knew which ones he needed for the month.

He picked one comic up and flipped through it, gazing at the pages with disinterest before putting it back. It went on like that for almost an hour.

When he was done finding the comics for his aggravating mentor, he found himself in line behind an obese man with greasy brown locks. He was talking loudly into a phone, a bunch of comics held haphazardly in his arms, looking like they could fall at any moment. The man was tapping a foot in annoyance, irritation apparent on his face.

"I'll have the money by Monday," he snapped into the phone.

There was a scathing remark from the other end of the call.

"I will!" the man almost howled. "The money for the kids will be there by Monday! Sheesh, woman!"

There was a laugh from the other end as well as a very well cussed sentence.

Thomas could see the man roll his eyes. "Goddammit, Laurice! I'll have the fucking money by Monday!" The man pulled the phone away from his ear and ended the call, grumbling under his breath all the while.

(This is why Thomas was glad he never married, even if he was in his early twenties.)

The line moved by slowly, like a snail crossing the sidewalk or street, the single cashier trying to get people out as quick as he could. As the cashier began scanning a blonde woman's comics, the door to the shop opened with a  _ding._

Thomas looked up from the comic that he had picked up from a nearby shelf ( _Spider-Man_ it was) and blinked.

It was Corden.

From a month ago at St. Martin's Hospital, where both of their bosses had been for mobbings.

They, of course, exchanged numbers, being new friends and all. But not one text was exchanged after they did, Thomas busy with helping Fourteen with whatever he needed, the cleaning, the paperwork, the superhero work, everything. He had rarely slept since Fourteen had been discharged, being called by his mentor at twelve or one in the morning to get him something from the drug store or even the Mini Mart on the corner of Steven Lane and Cequestria Avenue. He had college classes too, for his degree in creative writing he had been trying to get for the past four years.

Corden was on his phone, an iPhone 7 plus that had a space cover on it. He was wearing dark, washed out jeans with a T-shirt that had a triangle with a circle inside of it and a line down the middle of it. He wore a light gray beanie that was tugged low over his hair and a pair of earbuds hung put from his shirt, bouncing lightly as he made his say into the shop. His dark ( _and beautiful_ , his mind sighed) onyx eyes were glued to his phone, having not seen him just yet. 

As the other man began to pass him, he shuffled his foot slightly and coughed a weak cough.

( _Oh, that was pathetic. What the hell was that?)_

Corden looked up, his eyes widening as he noticed Thomas. Then a grin made its way across his face and he began to make his way over.

_(Oh god oh god oh god ohgodohgodohgod)_

"Hello there, Thomas!" Corden greeted as he stepped up next to him. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Thomas chuckled, fidgeting a little. "Yeah, a month to be exact. I've been busy, what with helping mg boss and all. I swear, it's like I'm just a slave!"

Corden snickered. "Sounds a little like my boss, to be honest."

Thomas looked at him put of the corner of his eyes, shifting the comics he had in his hands. He may have met Corden only once before, but the man gave off this sort of  _aura_  that just oozed from him. He had this air about him, one that made you friends with him easily enough. He had this goofy grin and this look in his eyes that just made Thomas to be friends with him, even if he only met him once.

"Really? And how  _is_ your boss, to be exact?"

"A lot better. Still grumbles about some pain and some travesty to his face, which he claims is beautiful. Then he goes on and on about how he'll pay the rent and how he'll do his work."

Thomas laughed. "He's better then my boss! Mine calls me at midnight or at one in the morning just to get him something from the store at the corner. He's so lazy, he makes me do all the paperwork and things for our company, it just drives me  _nuts."_

They stepped up to the cashier, Thomas setting the comics book down. The cashier immediately began to scan them as the two men continued to talk.

As they walked out later, they waved and promised to see each other again.

-

Later that night, Thomas got a text message from Corden as he got ready for bed.

_It was nice to see you again. Think we can meet up sometime?_

Thomas fell asleep with a smile after sending a reply back.

_**Sure, why not? When and where?** _


End file.
